


The Pretty Men With a Song in Their Hearts

by vinniebatman



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, FreeCreditReport.com Commercials
Genre: Crack, revenge for those stupid earworms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out wandering one night, Drusilla comes across the freecreditreport.com guys. I'd feel bad for them it weren't for all those annoying songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pretty Men With a Song in Their Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I so totally own the show and the commercial. Bow down! *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.  
> Author's Note: Sorry, but one day, I got that freaking song stuck in my head, you know, the one where he marries his dream girl, but she didn't tell him her credit was bad?  
> Well, out of that came this. I can't apologize enough for this

Miss Edith was being very naughty, so naughty in fact that she deserved a punishment. Drusilla was forced to leave Miss Edith at home before walking away from the pretty house with floors all painted in pretty red. The city buzzed this evening. So many thoughts and feelings swirling in the air, twisting and turning until they funneled into her mind. But one sad song called to her.

Drusilla followed it, smiling at the moon as her feet hunted the source of the music. But just as Drusilla began to fret, she found them. It was very odd, the way the three pretty boys sang so sweetly, numbers and misfortunes dancing inside them. A dark boy played with sticks, tapping out tales onto a taut skin. Another boy with waves of soft, shiny hair plucked at the strings with fingers made for dark deeds. But the singer was her true prize.

The sweet cherub sang, his voice so sweet as he strummed his guitar and lamented his cruel misfortune.

"Pretty little cherub, such sad, wonderful tidings," Drusilla crooned, moving closer.

The three fell silent, staring at her.

"You stopped the music." Drusilla pouted. "You're naughty little boys, just like Miss Edith."

As quickly as her smile had turned to sadness, it returned to her face, wicked. "I'll have to punish you all, my pretty little song birds. And nothing can help you now."

"Well, what about a free credit report?" the singer asked, puzzled.

Drusilla's smile widened as her true face emerged, and soon the night's stillness was shattered by screams.


End file.
